Some things are just better with a girlfriend. But what happens if you relocate to a rural town? For this writer, it meant searching for new BFFs.

I'm a little lonely. I've recently moved to a small town, and there are no coffee shops within a 15-minute drive, never mind walking distance. Plus, I work mostly from home, so I've talked to exactly three people today, for a total of 10 minutes: a colleague, on the phone; the UPS guy; and the refrigerator repairman (and the last wasn't exactly a pleasant conversation). I don't imagine I'll utter another word to anyone except my cat until my spouse comes through the door, and he's working late tonight.

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I could go online for distraction — I have lots of Facebook friends and Twitter followers, and I've even earned a LinkedIn All-Star badge. But I'm yearning for the kind of company only a live person can provide. Someone I can go for a walk with, or share neighborhood gossip with for 15 minutes. The trouble is, I don't know anyone like that here.

Until now, I've been abundantly blessed in the friend department. I spent most of my adult life single and living in New York City, where I built a network of friends I could count on for late-night dinners and spontaneous rant sessions about dating, work, and life. Then, at 48, I married a man who lived in the country and moved into his place. I now reside in an area known as the "Quiet Corner" of Connecticut — and believe me, it's pretty darn quiet. I've never felt more isolated, and I'm not the only one: A widely cited study from 2006 found that the number of people who said they had no close confidantes had nearly tripled since 1985. The problem, according to John Cacioppo, Ph.D., author of Loneliness: Human Nature and the Need for Social Connection, is not that we lack friends, but that we don't have enough time for them. "We're all juggling so much — caring for kids and older parents, commuting — that social interactions end up feeling more like an obligation than a pleasure," he says.

That may be part of the reason so many of us spend so much time on Facebook. After all, "It sometimes feels easier to go online than to see people in person," says Shasta Nelson, founder of girlfriendcircles.com, a female friendship matching site. But unless you have friends to actually talk to face-to-face, you likely won't be satisfied.

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It might seem obvious to blame the hours we're spending online for our loneliness, but the link isn't that black and white. "You read so much about how social media is wrecking our relationships, but that's not what most studies show," says Richard G. Jones, Jr., Ph.D., assistant professor of communications at Eastern Illinois University in Charleston, IL. In fact, a 2011 Pew study found that people who used Facebook multiple times a day (guilty as charged) actually had more close friends in real life.

"As with any tool, whether the Internet helps or hurts your friendships depends on how you use it," says Cacioppo. "Use it to promote quality bonds instead of as a substitute, and you'll be less lonely."

The trick: Find the right balance between your online and offline friendships — and use the former to strengthen and form more of the latter. "Try asking your online friends to introduce you to other online friends who live near you," suggests Nelson.

I like that idea, since it seems less awkward than simply walking up to a person and introducing myself. So I gamely post a message to my Facebook and Twitter crew: Does anyone know people in the Quiet Corner? I'm looking for nice friends! Within minutes, a former coworker sends me a message — "Hey, I grew up there! I'm visiting my mom next week — why don't we get together?"

Next, Nelson directs me toward friend-matching sites such as her girlfriendcircles.com as well as girlfriendsocial.com and meetup.com, which bring people with common interests together. But before I dive in, I call Rachel Bertsche, 31, a woman who got so good at making friends, online and otherwise, that she wrote a book about it: MWF Seeking BFF. When Bertsche moved to Chicago a few years ago, she knew almost no one, so she vowed to go on a "girl date" every week for a year. Among other things, she signed up for Shasta Nelson's site, girlfriendcircles.com, and ended up getting together with five women at a pizza restaurant. "We had a lovely evening, without the pressure of a one-on-one meeting," she says. "I ended up going out with one of them again, and now we see each other around town and chat all the time." Bertsche also tried her luck on meetup.com. "I went to a cooking club through the site — it's great, because it does the arranging. If you like someone, it's easy to say, 'Let's get dinner before the next meeting!' "

Inspired, I create a profile on girlfriendcircles.com. But when I punch in my birth date and zip code, I get a response that there are no "connecting circles" (i.e., groups of like-minded souls) near me. Slightly daunted, I try meetup.com, searching for "women who write." Immediately I'm connected with three nearby groups that convene monthly — the next meeting is in three weeks. I RSVP and pencil it in. Two slots filled.

The following week, my former colleague comes into town as promised, and we meet for a snack at an adorable local café she knows about. It's funky, with paintings from local artists on the walls and terrific organic food, and there's free Wi-Fi. (Guess there are cool places in the Quiet Corner.) Afterward, she takes me to her favorite farm-and-flower stand, where I pick up some pretty potted plants for our deck. When she drops me off at home, she says she'll call when she's in town again.

The visit fortifies me enough so that I happily get through a slew of solo workdays until the Meetup writers' group at month's end. It's at a local library, and we spend a few hours reading and critiquing one another's work. It's pleasant, and while I don't feel a real connection with anyone, I RSVP for two other Meetup writers' groups in my area when I get home.

Next, I decide to try some on-the-street networking. "It's easier to reach out to people you already come into contact with — say, on your daily walk or at a yoga class," Nelson tells me. She explains that I shouldn't be too picky, at least initially: "Cast a wide net, online and in real life. You can whittle the group down later."

I think about the people I not-so-randomly run into on my morning jogs, the neighbors strolling with their dogs, and the next morning I stop when I see someone I recognize coming my way. "Beautiful day, isn't it?" I say, and that's all it takes for us to start chatting (as in making small talk, not IM-ing). A retired teacher in her 70s, she's significantly older than I am and not someone I'd have been likely to socialize with in the city. But with Nelson's "cast a wide net" advice in mind, I push on, and I learn that she is a big reader with a wry wit. So I invite her for a drink.

A few days later, we're sitting on my deck talking about small-town politics and books. And, without clicking anything, the two of us somehow…click. I'm feeling more connected already.